Smile
by Space-facade
Summary: A glimpse of the team, and the events between S3 and S4 from Becker's POV. Becker/Jess.


**So, after three years of writing almost exculsively slash, the tables have turned. Terrifyingly, I've written something that's almost het. Almost. *gasp***

**Despite trying hard not to, I like Jess. And I actually could get into shipping her with Becker. So this is just me dipping my toes into the pool, and trying my hand at a little bit of the background to S4.**

**Reviews make me happier than shirtless Becker. And we now all know what that looks like. **

* * *

It had been, without a doubt, one of the most unpleasant times of Becker's life.

Right from day one of his career chasing dinosaurs, very little had gone right.

For starters, it hadn't been the easiest of job assignments. He was taking over from a man that the rest of the team had, if not been close to exactly, at least respected and implicitly trusted.

Although no one ever said it, or even hinted at it out loud, it was very clear to Becker that he would never be an adequate replacement for Captain Ryan.

The destruction of the ARC, and the death of Professor Cutter at the hands of his psychotic ex-wife did absolutely nothing to garner him any approval. Understandably.

He'd heard some horror stories about first month's on missions, but he genuinely thought that this one might take the grand prize.

When Danny Quinn had taken over the team, Becker had thought perhaps they might share some common ground. He was not Ryan, and Quinn was certainly never going to be Cutter.

That particular notion was dispelled within hours. The man was an arse. And if Lester had bitched about Cutter being a maverick, Quinn was no better.

In fact, Quinn might even have been worse. He shared both Cutter's disregard for the rules and safety, and his inherent distrust of military personnel, but unfortunately, not his aversion to guns and weaponry.

One thing Becker had learnt over those months was that it was exceedingly difficult to protect people that weren't all that interested in having your protection.

Still, as time wore on, he found himself more accepted. Not by the Professor, but Becker had come to the conclusion that that wasn't actually anything personal. In his private opinion, Cutter had been stuck in something of a downward spiral ever since the supposed time-line change. Not that anyone reasonable could blame the man.

As for the rest of the team, well. Abby Maitland was nice enough. A little too fixated on the animals at times, perhaps – she seemed to fail to see them as the danger that they were. But then, during a slightly heated debate over the use of a particularly heavy-duty piece of artillery, she'd accused of him of failing to see them as anything **other **than a danger, so that probably made them even.

She was tough and feisty, and he respected that enough that he was prepared to overlook her odd relationship with Temple, which he didn't even want to understand.

Connor Temple could not be adequately described in words. At first, Becker had only been able to spend time with him if he indulged in particularly homicidal fantasies. But as time, and anomaly after anomaly, wore on, he found himself less and less irritated. The man's intellect and enthusiasm were impressive, and to Becker's horror, he occasionally actually found his mouth twitching at Temple's terrible jokes.

Danny Quinn drove him nuts. He was completely uncontrollable, liked nothing better than picking holes in Becker's security system, and was really bloody good at his job. When they could control the urge to strangle each other, they made an irritatingly good team.

Becker had had relatively little to do with Jenny Lewis and James Lester, but he was pretty certain that as far as civil servants went, the two of them were golden.

Sarah Page was even newer to the team than he was. Becker liked her. She was funny, and sharp, and confident enough to not take crap from anyone. She was interesting to talk to as well – he'd learnt more about history from her in six months that he had in his entire time at school.

So, despite the slightly unfortunate start, they had started, slowly, to feel more like an actual team. The dynamic was still somewhat off, but Becker had thought, given another eight months or so, they might actually be getting somewhere.

Then, of course, Helen Cutter had happened, and everything had gone straight to hell. Becker couldn't understand why no one on the ARC team had shot her before, and stopped the whole mess from happening. She was such a conniving bitch, surely someone must have been tempted?

They'd started the day trying to save the human race, and ended it with three team members stranded in the future.

At least, as Lester had pointed out, human civilisation as they knew it still appeared to be standing, so whatever else had happened, that part of the mission had been a success.

Considering the potential magnitude of the destruction, that was a surprisingly small crumb of comfort.

The missions that followed, trying to get Abby, Connor and Danny back were not something Becker ever wanted to dwell on again.

Each time they'd set out, he'd known one or more of his men probably wouldn't be coming back, and he'd been faced with the sheer impossibility of finding someone who was, quite literally, lost in time.

In his heart of hearts, he'd never really expected to find them, but giving up was clearly not an option.

And it didn't become an option until they lost Sarah. The images still haunted Becker's dreams; the future predator, the sounds of gunfire, and then her screaming, screaming his name, until all of a sudden, she was abruptly cut off.

God, there'd been so much blood, and she was a historian, for fuck's sakes. She shouldn't have been there.

It was after that mission that the ARC's work was suspended.

Him and Lester, the only two left alive, had been questioned like criminals. Lester had dealt with it in his usual manner, acerbic tone, and sarcasm firmly in place, but Becker had found it more difficult.

The evening after the third of the interrogations, he'd made his way down to the ARC's kitchen, intending to get drunk, and had found Lester there, sat at the table, watching something on the screen of his laptop.

It turned out to be a triceratops. In the House of Commons. Becker had never thought of himself as a petty man, but he and James Lester had sat in the kitchen, the ARC empty all around them, and toasted the bad luck of the fuckwits who were questioning the morality of what they did for a living. Raised their glasses and drank to the misfortune of those who criticised, and judged, without having any fucking idea of what it was like, to lose your entire team in one fell swoop.

That was the night he'd handed in his resignation. Lester hadn't even looked surprised, just taken the letter with a nod. Becker highly suspected he'd known it was coming.

Just like, when two weeks later he heard that the ARC was back in action and a new team was being put together, he'd known that he'd get the phone call.

We need James Lester, he'd been told.

And James Lester wants you.

Which was how he found himself back in the ARC, stepping out into the empty control room, and trying not to dwell on ghosts.

When he'd been told 'new field co-ordinator' he'd expected a man, probably ex-military. Jess Parker came as something of a surprise.

Not even twenty years old, dressed in lime green skirt and shirt, and bubble gum pink shoes. He hadn't been able to hide his shock.

She's shown him the file on Matt Anderson, and using it as a cover, he'd asked,

'Does Lester still choose the staff?'

She'd nodded, blathering on about Government-private owned something. He'd asked some inane question about the minister, to hide the fact his brain was still stuck on one thought.

Lester hired **you**?

The file on Matt Anderson was intimidating. According to his CV, the man was God. Becker had entertained the unpleasant thought that he might be worse than Danny.

Sharing this doubt with Jess Parker, he'd thought at first, had been an error of judgement.

When he caught on that she was poking fun, he hadn't been able to stop a smile.

She'd grinned like he'd made all her wishes come true just with that one expression, and he'd been unable to resist teasing back. She fallen for it hook, line, and sinker, and Becker had pondered on the utter ridiculousness of her working at the ARC.

Of course, once the team actually started work properly, he had to revise that opinion.

She might be naïve, bubbly, young, and extremely colourful, but give her a keyboard and she was as formidable as any Sergeant Major.

Matt Anderson was an unknown quantity. Everything on paper told Becker to dislike the man. Dislike him, and distrust him. In person however, he seemed entirely different. He was withdrawn, competent, professional, and showed the utmost respect for the fact that there had been an entire team of people doing this job that had been and gone before him.

They made a good team, the three of them. Plus Lester, sat safely in his glass-walled office as though he was the centre of gravity of the whole operation.

It wasn't quite like before though. Everything was done completely seriously, and to Becker's own self-disgust, he missed Cutter's ranting, Connor's geeky enthusiasm, and Abby's tirades on animal rights. Hell, he even missed Quinn crawling through the bloody air vents to prove the ARC wasn't secure.

The difference, he thought, was that before, despite what the team had been through, a large part of them was still the mismatched group of people that had stumbled on a conspiracy to end all conspiracies, and ended up trying to save the world.

That sense of incredulity and awe had been well and truly lost. Now they did the job, and they got the hell out. Professional.

This, Becker told himself, was the reason he found himself drawn to Jess.

She took her job seriously, no doubt about it, but she was also easy to talk to, easy to amuse, and easy to embarrass. And the general light-heartedness she displayed appealed to him.

To his slight discomfort, he found he enjoyed making her smile. It made him feel like he could still make some kind of positive difference, despite the past overwhelming evidence to the contrary.

This theory was blown straight out of the water when Abby and Connor returned home.

For two people he had never really liked a huge amount, Becker was inordinately pleased to see them. Ecstatic, relieved, eternally grateful; all were appropriate words.

The fact Lester allowed himself to be hugged said more than words ever could.

And after a few power clashes, and a willy-waving contest between Burton and Lester, some of the old team found themselves back together.

Abby and Connor brought a little life into the proceedings. Connor almost killed their boss on day two, proving that a year in the Permian had had no effect on his deeper nature.

Now that the team dynamic had been re-established, Becker was aware that Jess' appeal should diminish.

Which was why a little voice was asking very pointed questions when he found himself in a news agents after a mission buying chocolate with no orange in it (because that was weird).

When he'd handed it over, and a grin had broken through the surprise on her face, Becker had realised something rather worrying.

No matter how many members of his old team re-appeared, he still liked making her smile.


End file.
